


Desperation

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Blowjobs, College-Age, Hair Pulling, M/M, Needy Ford, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a room with your crush can get a little… heated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever smut. Join me at http://coloursparrowfanfic.tumblr.com and share headcannons, and get excerpts of my fics.

Stanford Pines was incredibly nervous. Any minute now his roommate would be arriving, the person he’d have to share this tiny living space with for the rest of the year. He’d known beforehand that he’d have to have a shared room—no way his parents could or would pay for a single— but he’d tried not to think about it. The room was smaller than his one back home, and even that had been cramped before Stan—

 

Ford shook his head harshly. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about all that now, not when, any second now, he’d have to meet the person who would be invading his personal space for months on end. He might have to even, God forbid, small talk with the man. And that was just today. Every day for 8 months they’d see each other, barring the occasional library all-nighter and visit home. 8 months he’d have to deal with someone else's snoring and chewing and talking.

 

Frustrated, Ford let his head drop into the copy of Advanced Calculus for Genius’s he’d been trying to distract himself with. Who was he kidding? He could deal with small talk and  snoring, it wasn’t like he slept a lot anyways. What he was really worried about was who this person would be. Would they complain about his late-night study habits, or would they be the slacker type? What if they were completely incompatible, what if they made fun of him for his… unique hands? Said hands fidgeted with the edges of his textbook as the anxiety building in his gut nearly spilt over, causing a tired sigh to escape his lips.

 

“Uh.. is this the right room? I’m lookin’ for 816?” Immediately Stanford shot up straight, smashing his elbow against the desktop with a loud crack.

 

“God dammit!” he swore, cradling his elbow. He glanced over his shoulder at the source of his voice and saw a blond man standing hunched in the doorway. He must have been half the size of Ford across but nearly 4 inches taller, a heavy duffle bag in his hands and a banjo slung over his back.

 

The man shifted his weight back a forth, obviously uncomfortable. “The RA said this’n was 816 but there’s no number on the door so…"

 

“No!” Ford shouted, and winced when the other man looked startled. “N-no this is 816, come in.” He stood up and laced his hands together behind his back, a habit picked up after years of bullying. The blond man nodded and shuffled warily inside.

 

“Sorry if’n I startled you, I shoulda knocked. My ma would tan my hide if she knew I’d been so rude.” He set his bag on the empty bed opposite Stanford's and turned back to face the shorter, sticking out his hand in offering. “Name’s Fiddleford, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

 

Ford stared for a second before grudgingly taking the offered hand. “I’m Stanford Pines, you can call me Ford.” If Fiddleford noticed the extra finger, he didn’t say anything but instead gave Stanford’s hand a firm, warm handshake.

 

“Another Ford? Well, I’ll be. Nice t’meet you, Ford.” The southerner smiled warmly and Ford felt a little less nervous. “It looks like we’re gonna be bunkin’ together for the year then."

 

Stanford returned the smile hesitantly. Fiddleford seemed pretty normal, nice even. He’d probably been worried for no reason at all.

* * *

Ford had never been so wrong in his life. Living with Fiddleford was definitely the worst situation he could have imagined, hands down. Worse than being made fun of for his hands, even worse than failing all his classes. He had no idea how he was supposed to make it another 6 months like this.

 

It wasn’t that Fiddleford was a bad or unpleasant person, quite the opposite in fact. The lanky man was kind to a fault and shared a good number of interested and hobbies with Ford. Fiddleford was pursuing a degree in Mechanical Engineering, but often their coursework was similar enough that they could stay up late studying together. They’d even discovered their shared love of Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons, and played whenever they had a spare second. In fact, Ford considered Fiddleford to be his best friend, his first friend.

 

No, it wasn’t the man’s personality, or even his love of country music and banjo playing. No, the problem was that Stanford was… attracted to his roommate.

 

He hadn’t noticed at first how his eyes tracked the other man’s movements about the room when he was supposed to be studying. Fiddleford was just so… eye catching with his impressive height and snappy clothing. And if Ford's eyes lingered a bit too long on the other man’s chest when he was dressing after a shower, then he was just distracted and staring off into space. He wasn’t checking Fiddleford out, imagining the other man coming up behind him and pressing his naked torso against Ford's. He could nearly feel the smooth rasp of the southerners nipples against his back, the peaks pointed and excited and he just wanted to suc—

 

So, he was attracted to Fiffleford, and the other was completely oblivious, thank God. Fiddleford hadn’t said anything when Ford took to wearing sweatpants in their shared dorm, a desperate attempt to hide his growing excitement every time the older man began nibbling on the end of his pencil. He also hadn’t said anything about Ford’s new-found obsession with showers (cold) taken at random times during the day. The situation was frustrating beyond belief and not something Ford had ever had to deal with.

 

It wasn’t that he’d never been attracted to anyone before. He had, sort of. There had been a girl in his 7th-grade class with long blonde hair that’d he’d thought was rather pretty, and a boy in his senior high school science lab who he’d liked to look at, but those times weren’t as intense as this. No, this time, all Ford could think about was touching Fiddleford, smelling Fiddleford, tasting Fiddleford, and it was driving him insane.

 

“Stanford are you alright? You’ve been starin' that that page on Quantum Metamorphosis for half’n hour.” Damn that southern drawl!

 

“Y-yes Fidds, I’m fine. Just tired?” He hadn’t meant for that to sound like a question, but the other man was looking at him with such warmth, such concern; it was distracting.

 

Fiddleford sighed and stretched, his hands above his head and back arching in a way that sent electric pings through Fords dick. “Maybe we should try takin’ a break for a while. Catch some shut-eye.” Ford nodded—he was actually a little tired—and flopped down on his bed, shoes and all. Fiddleford chuckled and stood up, walking over to the foot of Ford’s bed. “Let me help."

 

Ford, who was only now realising how tired he’d been, didn’t notice anything unusual unless Fidds began pulling at his shoes. “Fiddleford?” he mumbled, looking blearily down at his naked right foot.

 

“Shh Stanford, I’m just helpin’ you out. Sleepin’ in your clothes in gross, even for you.” The older made quick work of Ford’s left shoe and sock, then paused for a moment. “Think you can get your pants and sweater on your own?"

 

Stanford felt his cheeks light up scarlet in embarrassment as he fiddled with the button on his pants. “Y-yeah, thank you Fiddleford.” The button popped and he began to shimmy the jeans down his hips, but stopped when he realised Fidds was still standing at the end of the bed. The older was staring, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You OK Fidds?"

 

“So cute… you’re…” Ford jumped as Fiddleford reached forward with his long arms and laid his hands over Ford’s and leant down. “You drive me crazy, Stanford Pines, with that amazin’ ass and fuckin' beautiful legs. God, I just wanna eat you up."

 

Ford’s dick was straining against the seam of his jeans before he could even process what Fiddleford was saying. Still, the older kept going. “Always eyein’ me lookin’ like you wanna be fucked so bad. Do you want me to fuck you, Stanford?” The hands covering Ford’s slid just a few inches under his yellow sweater, just enough for Fiddleford to begin caressing his stomach.

 

“F-Fid—AH!” FIddleford’s hand suddenly shot up to tweak Fords nipple harshly. “I don’t—I never—ah! Yes!"

 

Ford watched dazedly as Fiddleford leant back and stripped off his shirt. When had he gotten on the bed? When had he started straddling Ford’s thighs looking so calm and collected? “Well then come on darlin’ and undress for me."

 

Again it took a few seconds for Ford’s brain to catch up, but when it did he wasted no time ripping off his sweater. He couldn’t do much about his pants with Fiddleford sitting in his lap, but he was loath to ask the other to move. Instead, he laid back and stared up at Fiddleford, who was popping the button on his own slacks.

 

“My my, Stanford Pines you’ve been hidin’ one hell of a body under those sweaters.” He ran his hands from Fords hips, up his faint treasure trail, and through the soft hair of his chest. Ford bit his lip and held in a moan. Everything was moving so fast and felt so good. He had no idea what to do and met Fiddlefords gaze with his own.

 

“I-I don’t know what you mean Fidds, but you-you look pretty great yourself. You’ve got a lot more muscle than I thought.” He punctuated his sentence with a squeeze of the others bicep. The muscle underneath was firm and wiry, and it aroused Ford intensely to know that his skinny friend could probably pin him in a fight.

 

“Oh golly, you’re just sayin’ that, Fidds said coyly, sliding one of his hands back down Ford’s torso in up to his own crotch. There he gave himself and firm squeeze, never taking his eyes off Stanford’s. “I bet you tell all the boys that same thing, don’tcha?"

 

“N-nn-no,” Stanford stuttered. He hated how his stutter showed up when he was nervous, or apparently, turned on. Fiddleford kept massaging the growing bulge, knowing it was driving the other crazy. “God, Fidds…"

 

“Want somethin', honey?"

 

Ford didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted more, and less, and faster, and slower. He’d never so much as kissed anyone before, heck, he still hadn’t and Fiddleford was sitting on top of him practically masturbating. He opened his mouth to try and explain his predicament to FIdds when the other suddenly ground down in his lap. Hard.

 

“Nhg!” he gasped. Fidds repeated the motion with a satisfied grin on his face.

 

“You like that sweetheart? You want more?” Yes, he wanted more. He wanted more more more.

 

“Yes! God yes Fidds pl-please. I’ve never—never felt like this. Uh!” he pleaded, jerking his hips up to meet Fiddlefords as best he could. The other slowed his movements to lean down and kiss his neck.

 

“Never huh? No one’s ever touched you like this?” Fiddleford husked, stopping ever few words to leave a sucking kiss or a gentle nip to Fords neck. The younger moaned and clutched the sheets, completely overcome. “Stanford? Answer me."

 

Fiddleford pulled back to look Ford in the eye, he needed to know. He’d stop if Ford wasn’t comfortable, but he needed the other to tell him.

 

“N-no one. I’m a... a virgin,” Ford mumbled, hoping that his admission would get Fiddleford to start that again. He shakily released the bedsheets from the death grip he had on them and placed his hands on Fidds’ back. “Is that OK? I-if you don’t want me because of that it’s fine.”

 

He half expected Fiddleford to agree and let go of him. They’d go back to being just friends and Ford would go back to stealing glances when he could. Instead, Fiddleford leant down so his mouth was millimetres from Ford’s own and grasped his hips tightly.

 

“Are you kiddin’ me sugar? I’d love to be the one to show you the ropes… if'n you want me to.” The look of pure want that slid over Ford’s face was answer enough. In response, FIddleford leant down and connected their lips gently. Ford’s lips were warm and dry, but also soft and plush. Fiddleford wanted so badly to ravish him, but also knew that this may well be Stanford's first kiss.

 

Ford, on the other hand, was in heaven. Fiddleford was kissing him and holding him and everything was so new. No one outside of his family had ever hugged him, and even then that had been a rare occurrence. He was happy to kiss Fiddleford like this for the rest of his life until the older squirmed slightly, their crotches rubbing together in the most delicious of ways.

 

“Oh!” Ford panted into Fidds’ mouth, which had opened in a silent moan at the contact. Kissing the other while they moved against one another was so different, so much more intense. Ford wanted more and was about to reconnect their mouths when Fiddleford beat him to it. Suddenly their kisses were hot and heavy, mouths open and wanting, teeth nipping lips. Ford was pleasantly surprised when Fidds’ tongue made it’s way into his mouth, stroking and coaxing his own tongue to participate. The older explored his mouth with fervour, taking complete control, and revelled in the tiny gasps and groans he caused.

 

Their grinding had paused when they’d first kissed, but it slowly picked up from there. Fiddleford was shifting in Stanford's lap, grinding small, tight circles against his inner thigh and dick. Stanford, being much less experienced, was just trying to hold on, gripping at Fidds’ back and rocking up against him whenever he could. The pace was quickly getting frantic; Fiddleford was trying to be gentle for Ford’s first experience, but they younger just wasn't having it.

 

“Fidds, Fidds! I—please, more! Ngh please!” Fiddleford had had no idea that his mild-mannered friend would be such a talker in bed, but he didn’t mind. Drawing back from the younger he lifted up off Stanford's lap and tugged his slacks down as far as they could go. Ford whined at the loss of contact, but quickly caught on and followed suit, kicking and wiggling until his pants were bunched up at the foot of the bed next to Fiddlefords. He was about to pull the other back against him when he realised that it wasn’t just their pants against the footboard.

 

Fiddleford was completely naked, save for his reading glasses which he removed and set on Stanford's bedside table. Ford couldn’t help but stare at what he’d been fantasizing about for months; it was right there in front of him. That toned chest, soft tummy, those strong and biteable thighs. His gaze rested between the man’s legs, staring at the one thing he’d tried to avoid thinking about for the past 2 months.

 

“See somethin’ you like darlin’?” Fiddleford crooned, trying not to laugh at the gobsmacked look on his friend's face. Stanford was just so… cute? Innocent? He didn’t really know how to describe it but the other man was doing wonders for his confidence.

 

“Yes. C-can I…?” Ford whispered, already reaching out, but not quite touching. He’d never wanted anything more, and he wasn’t even really sure what he wanted. He wanted to hold it, touch it, suck it. He needed  it. “Pl-please Fidds, can I?"

 

Fiddleford bit back a groan of pleasure and thrust his hips forward lightly. “O’course darlin’, keep talkin’ like that and you can do whatever you want.” Ford smiled sheepishly but didn’t take his eyes off the cock in front of him.

 

Deciding to go slow he reached out and gently traced the veins and skin that made up Fidds’ beautiful dick. He was circumcised and the same size as Stanford, maybe a tiny bit longer. It curved up slightly towards his belly and was wonderfully full and soft and delicious looking. Hesitantly, he leant forward and gave the tip a tiny lick, the taste of precum and sweat heavy on his tongue.

 

“Sweet sasparilla Stanford!” Fiddleford groaned, burying his hands in Fords soft brown hair, trying not to tug the man closer to his dick. He wanted so badly to fuck the others mouth, to fill his throat with cum and watch Ford love every second of it, but he was trying to be gentle. “You’re gonna kill me if you keep that up."

 

Ford didn’t say anything but the hint of a playful smirk danced across his face as he leant in and took the head of Fidds’ cock into his mouth and sucked. He’d heard, in high-school locker rooms, that he was supposed to suck. He thought Fiddleford might enjoy it if he took more in so he pushed forward until he choked a bit, the feeling for the other man's dicks pressing against the back of his throat uncomfortable. Fidds’ grip on his hair was near painful now, but Ford didn’t mind as he pulled off and looked up at Fidds’ blissed-out expression. He took that as a sign he was doing good and continued, moving up and down the shaft slowly.

 

“Sweet Jesus Stanford where did’ja learn that?” Fiddleford gasped, his hips bucking slightly at a particularly fervent suck. He wasn’t going to last long if the other kept doing that but God  did it feel good. Stanford probably wasn’t even aware that he was moaning and whining, pulling Fidds’ hips towards his mouth when he bottomed out like he wanted Fiddleford to fuck his face. Nealy overwhelmed the older bucked again, this time pulling Ford’s mouth down his penis, trying to get the younger to take all of him. Ford was caught off-guard but quickly adapted, opening his throat and swallowing. He let Fidds fuck his face with  a hard a tempo, loving every second.

 

“Ohh Stanford… you’re doin' so good baby. You want me to cum in your mouth sweetheart?” Ford’s hips jerked violently as he moaned, a visceral reaction to Fidds’ erotic sweet-talking. His only answer to the question was to suck harder and whine, his eyes fluttering shut.

 

“Oh jeez, oh God, FORD!” Fidds whined, humping Stanford's face as his dick pulsed cum into his throat. Stanford took it like a champ, moaning and sucking until Fiddleford couldn’t take anymore and had to pull the other forcibly off his dick. Cum and drool shone on Fords lips but he didn’t seem to notice; Fiddleford thought the younger was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

 

“Mother of Christ, Stanford,” he panted, collapsing on his friends broad, heaving chest. Ford let himself lay back on the bed, his arms wrapped around the slighter man. “You’ve gone and nearly sucked my brain out through my dick there buddy. God…” Fiddleford noticed that Stanford's breathing wasn’t evening out, and he was still squirming underneath him. A quick glance down revealed that the other hadn’t come, hadn’t taken his pants off or even touched himself that entire time. Fiddleford grinned.

 

Stanford was too far gone to respond. Every touch from the other sent ripples of pleasure coursing through his body. He had no idea what to do with himself, he’d never been this turned on in his life. Anytime he’d “taken care of business” himself it had been a quick, detached process. It was something to be done quickly, gotten out of the way so he could focus on science. But this? He’d swear off D, D and more D if it meant getting Fiddleford to just touch him more.

 

Luckily Fidds had no intention of leaving him hanging. The smaller man was tired and boneless but wanted badly to repay his friend. He shimmied up so his face was once again nestled in the crook of Stanford's neck, and began whispering between kisses.

 

“So good honey, you’re a real treat. Can’t believe no ones ever snatched you up.” Stanford could only moan in response, his dick hard and leaking in its confinements. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, you just lie back and let me take care of you.” Fiddleford snaked his way down to the others chest, finally getting a chance to enjoy his friend's body. Gently, he took one nipple into his mouth and laved over it with his tongue, using a hand to tweak and caress the other. Ford’s reaction was immediate a severe.

 

“Ah, ah oh FUCK!” he shouted, his entire body going rigid with surprise. Did this sort of thing always feel this good, or was is just Fiddleford? At this rate he might end up cumming in his pants before the other even touched him.

 

“My my, I’ve never heard you swear before Stanford, who knew you had such a dirty mouth.” Fidds let go of one nipple and moved to the other, distracting Ford while he trailed his hand down the elastic of the youngers boxer-briefs. Nipping mercilessly at the rosey bud he plunged his hand into the other’s underwear, firmly grasping the base of Fords thick, hot cock. Stanford ensuing scream of pleasure forced him to look up and study the science majors face.

 

“Feels like you really need this Ford, when’s the last time you took care of yourself.” He pumped his hand up and down quickly a few times, reveling in the way Stanford melted into an oversensitive pile of mush. “Did’ja think about me when you did it? I bet you did you dirty little—" With a shout Ford’s hips bucked wildly and FIdds felt hot wetness cover his hand. It hadn’t taken more than a few seconds to make the younger cum harder than he ever  had in his life. Still, Fiddleford kept jerking him gently, milking the others pleasure from him until he sobbed.

 

“P-pleeease Fidds, ah! No more n-no more ngh!” Ford cried out. He felt like he could have died right at that moment and been happy. That was until he  came down from his orgasm and felt the sticky, cooling mess left behind in his underwear. “Eww…"

 

Fiddleford laughed and pulled at the offending clothing, getting Ford to lift his hips so they could work together. Soon Ford’s boxer briefs joined the pile at the foot of the bed, and the two men laid together in the single bed. Fiddleford felt himself drifting off, the late hour and calming beat of his partner's heart lulling him comfortably. He would have been happy to fall asleep right there and leave the talk they so obviously needed to have until the morning, but he could feel Stanford squirming underneath him.

 

“Dagnabbit Stanford why are you wigglin’ about like—“ Then he felt it; Ford was still hard. Maybe not quite as much as before but he was definitely still hard and ready to go. Fiddlefords soft dick twitched in interest.

 

“S-sorry Fiddleford. I don’t know what's wrong with me,” the younger whispered, ashamed and flushed. “You-you can get off of me now, I’ll d-deal with this.” God Fidds must think he’s a total freak, a slut. This was so embarrassing.

 

But Fiddleford wasn’t getting up. He hadn’t been expecting Ford to return his feeling at all, and when he did he hadn’t been expecting more than a little make-out. But Stanford was so willing, so ready and needy that Fidds didn’t think he’d ever let the man “deal with” his arousal ever again, not on his own at least.

 

“Oh honey, don’t be embarrassed. You want a lil’ more lovin’?” Fiddleford soothed his fingers through the younger's hair, something he’d been fantasising about since the day they met. Ford mewled his approval. “It’s perfectly natural and all, heck I’m nearly rarin’ to go again myself.” He thrust forward a little bit to demonstrate.

 

Ford looked less embarrassed, but still a little bit upset. “I-I just—I don’t do this kind of thing and—“ Fiddleford shut him up with a firm kiss.

 

“Don’t worry about that hun. Why don’tcha roll over on you belly and let me take good care of you.” Again, Fiddleford’s soft southern drawl wormed it's way through Stanford's entire body and he couldn’t help but comply. Fidds lifted up so he could roll over, but promptly dropped back down, his dick settling between Fords ass-cheeks. “D’you have any condoms or lube?"

 

Ford’s flush was visible even from behind. “T-There’s some lube in the end table, but I don’t have any,” he paused, as if the final word was too hard to say, “condoms."

 

Fiddleford chuckled again and nodded, leaning over to the bedside table and rifling through. “Me neither, fresh out.” He winked salaciously and returned to his spot at Ford’s ass, lube in hand. “But I’m clean, and I’m sure you are too sugar,” Ford nodded enthusiastically, “so if'n you don’t object we could—"

 

“Yes! Uh, y-yes, I mean. I don’t object,” Ford stuttered and felt Fidds shake in laughter at his back.

 

“Alrighty then cowboy.” Fiddleford popped the cap on the lube with a loud crack and spread a generous amount over his right fingers and hand. “You ever did anythin’ back here before honey?"

 

Ford wiggled and gasped as one of Fiddlefords cold slippery fingers drifted along his ass crack. “J-just a little.” He’d experimented occasionally when he’d let himself give in to his more carnal needs, and found he really liked it. But that was him doing it to himself, and so far everything with Fiddleford had been 100x better than anything he’d felt before. He couldn’t wait to see what Fidds would do, could do even.

 

“You fucked yourself with those gorgeous hands of yours baby?” Fiddleford crooned, circling Fords hole with one finger and pushing just slightly. He felt the other man tense up a little but slowly relax, a soft sigh escaping into the pillow below his head. Fidds pushed until his index finger was inside Stanford up to the first knuckle, then waited.

 

“You doin’ alright Ford? Lemme know if I hurt you or anythin’ OK?” Ford writhed on the digit in his ass, pushing back until the entire thing was inside of him.

 

“Oh, oh God Fidds MORE,” he mewled, lifting his ass off the bed so he could grind against the sheets. Fiddleford was torn between thinking this was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and being wary of hurting Ford. Carefully he worked the single digit in and out, loosening his partners entrance slowly. Fiddleford was surprised at his roommate's behaviour and edged the second finger inside. Ford, upon feeling the second digit, threw back his head and keened.

 

“Ahhhhhh mhmm.” Ford felt himself drooling but couldn't find it in himself to care. It wasn’t that the fingers in his ass felt that amazing, but the idea that it was Fiddleford, his crush, made it so much better. At least, that was the case until Fidds grinned sharply and curled his fingers forward.

 

“FUCK!” Ford screamed as the older man hit his prostate dead-on. He’d never managed to reach it himself but he’d heard…

 

“Shit, Stanford you’re so gosh-darn sexy,” the engineer panted. He started massaging the youngers prostate constantly, loving the screams and whimpers he could pull out of the other. Ford didn’t show any sign of noticing when he slipped in a third finger or even a fourth. “Oh honey, you’re doing so well. Your ass is so hungry, I bet you could take my whole hand…” Ford keened.

 

“Fid-Fidds oh God, fuck me! P-please I need it Fidds.”Fiddleford wasn’t about to argue and removed his fingers, but not before giving one last press to the others prostate. “Fidds PLEASE!"

 

Fiddleford had a reputation as a tease, but in that moment, he couldn’t fuck Stanford fast enough. The other was so ready, and the idea that no one else had ever had him, well Fiddleford always had a soft-spot for virgins. Quickly he lubed up his aching length and pulled Stanford onto his hands and knees.

 

“You ready Stanford?” He wanted to make sure one last time, give Ford one last chance to change his mind. That didn’t mean he was going to be patient though, and while waiting for Ford to answer he began rubbing the head of his cock against Stanford's loosened hole.

 

Ford had no words for how ready he was and instead grabbed Fidds’ hand, which gripped his hip. Six fingers intertwined with five as Fiddleford pushed the head of his dick inside that tight, wet heat.

 

“Ngh Fidds it’s—“ Ford begged, choking on his own pleasured groans.

 

“I-I know Stanford, oh God you feel so good,” Fiddlefoard husked, stopping to give Ford a moment to adjust. He didn’t have to wait long though before Ford was clenching around him and practically sucking him in.

 

“G-give it to me Fidds. I c-can take it, please!” If Fiddleford had had less self-control he would have plunged in all at once. As it was it took an incredible amount of effort to ease his length in one inch at a time. Besides, this way he got to feel ever inch of Stanford's body grip him in melting ecstasy.

 

Finally, he was fully seated inside his younger roommate. Ford was flexing underneath him, arms shaking and head bowed. Sweat dripped off his forehead almost as steadily as precum dripped from his cock. Fiddleford wrapped his right hand around the other's prick and pumped once, twice. Stanford gasped out a few garbled syllables and pushed back against Fidds’ hips. Fiddleford didn’t keep him waiting.

 

“Hold on baby, I’m about t’show you what you’ve been missin’ out on,” Fiddleford growled, pulling almost entirely out of Ford and thrusting back in all in one smooth movement. Stanford whimpered as his prostate was brushed, the feeling too much and not enough all at once. An overwhelmed whimper snuck past his lips.

 

“F-fuck Fidds yes.” Ford tried to move in time with Fiddleford’s thrusts, the force of which was knocking the headboard against the wall violently. If he’d been more aware of his surroundings he would have been embarrassed to hear his dorm-neighbours banging on the wall, but as it was he didn’t even notice.

 

“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” Fidds panted, charging into the younger with as much force as he could muster. “Gonna fill you up, baby.” The slick tight heat and friction of Fords hole were driving him crazy. He wanted to last and make his partner’s first time a good one, but his orgasm was rapidly approaching. He couldn’t come before Ford, he wouldn’t, and instead of letting go he leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of fluffy hair, pulling hard.

 

Ford had already been close before, what with the intense thrusts against his prostate and the clever hands milking his dick, but it was the sharp pain of Fiddleford yanking his hair that finally did him in.

 

“FIDDS I’—“ He came with a scream, cum spurting from his cock and coating the bedsheets underneath him. It was the most intense orgasm of his life, and the longest, as Fidds fucked him right through it. Tiny “ah, ah, ah’s” escaped him as the oversensitive pleasure burned through him.

 

“Ford!” Fidds grunted, finally allowing himself to cum inside the younger man. Ford’s ass clenched around him, drawing his orgasm out to a level Fiddleford had never experienced. It left him boneless and shaky, his arms and legs giving out so he was spread-eagled on top of Ford. The brown-haired man also collapsed, landing in his own mess, but neither cared.

 

“Ohhh,” Ford moaned as his friend's softening dick slipped from his ass. He could feel sweat and lube and cum dripping between his thighs; a messy but satisfying feeling. He barely felt the lighter man resting on his back, exhaustion setting in. He knew they needed to get cleaned up and talk about what just happened, but he honestly didn’t have the energy. Fiddleford seemed to agree with him, pressing lazy kisses between his shoulders as he snaked an arm around the man underneath him.

 

“G’night Stanford,” Fiddleford mumbled into the others neck. Ford didn’t answer, sleep already pulling him under. Fiddleford followed soon after, the warmth radiating from the younger lulling him into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
